Sunday, November 9, 2014

silence is golden

In society, we punish people with segregation. Parents often send their kids to their rooms when they get on their nerves. Even now, at 51... I can still hear Harry (my deceased father who I miss terribly) shouting "Get out of my sight, go on outdoors" or even my soft spoken mum:  "get off my tits!"  I guess I was a busy kid, an annoying kid.
Well now I'm a busy adult and I can't stand being lonely! I do however enjoy being on my own at times. I go fishing on the river (with little success) ride my motorbike, stand at the window of the local Chinese barbecue for many minuets watching the man cut meat...but damn it, I'm alone too often and for too long! Apparently that is very bad for me!
I'm a foolish man thats doesn't stay in touch with the too few male friends that continue to try to engage me. I fear I may have learned that from Harry. He had only 1 friend. I can't recall one single evening meal where we had people over...not one! No one ever came for Christmas either. I suppose that's in part because we were new to Canada, leaving all relatives in England.
Along the way I've managed to really muck a few things up.
Life is cruel at times, and I've earned much of what has befallen me. If one could roll back the calander I have a couple of dates...
Too many times lately, I've had to grab hold of something sturdy here on Earth while looking to the heavens through burning tears while thinking about some of my worst moments. Those times where the shock waves I've created have maimed other people...and at the top of my lungs I shout MULLIGAN! 
Sadly there is no chance of a re-do. 
Some searing words that have recently gone into my ears are for now alive in my soul. Hearing the words...more than the words themselves, is the reason I'm seeking therapy. 
I've hit bottom. I'm a reckless, wayward ship on a foggy, calm breathless Sea and I'm desperate. I've lost my sail, rudder, anchor and sextant. The North star is an unidentifiable blur and I fear I'm merely drifting into the abyss.
Those words, now buried deep within, shout a new identity to me, one I hope to throw off with professional help and time.

"I'm tired of you being an absolute, utter fuck up"
 That's louder than Harry ever was...

Early diagnosis? DEPRESSION! Well, at least I'm not simply an asshole!
This blog is new. Don't like it so far? Go away...
I'm not looking for sympathy. I make no excuses for my behaviour. I will NOT cling to a victim mentality.
This is it folks...this is me, a work in progress.

1 comment:

  1. Sitting down with a strong brew and listening in across the miles. Hoping in the silence that you keep up the open heart writing. I for one am looking forward to reading each one of your entries.